


for the way this animal love, lurches monstrous up my chest

by hoars



Series: Strangeness and Charm [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 1880s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gypsy, M/M, Magic, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoars/pseuds/hoars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Strangeness follows the Romani, what is a little more?” Elder Travj asked.</p><p>That was the night Derek’s pack began to follow the caravan; a night marked by fire and loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for the way this animal love, lurches monstrous up my chest

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Roger Bonair-Agard's "Your Bed is Too Small for Fucking and Poetry." 
> 
> Seriously un'betaed, but hopefully still enjoyable.

The circle of caravans are in turn encircled by the pack of dogs that follow them from place to place.

The dogs are well cared for and appear particularly vicious to the unpracticed eye. Here, the dogs appear even more out of place. In England, the big, furry dogs like the sled dogs or shepherd dogs of Russia are uncommon. If not for the dogs, Derek doubted the town’s children would creep as close as they dared to the Gypsy caravan. It was the bear, he knew, that hooked the children into Gypsy world and had them spending their pocket money.

He’s seen the bear from a distance. His handler, a man named Finstock, has taught the bear to dance and juggle and obey his every command. It stirs a rage and fear in his heart like no other sight has before. This man dares to tame a wild beast. A beast that could tear him apart if he had half the mind to.

Derek’s family, his pack, follows the caravan as its protectors.

Ever since the attacks in France, hunters are becoming smarter and more proficient at their tasks. They even use women, it’s been heard. In other places, Derek’s heard it is the woman who command the men when to strike. Derek has known of entire packs decimated, the lone wolf a new myth in this new world. Werewolves becoming the hunted.

“Strangeness follows the _Romani_ , what is a little more?” Elder Travj asked.

That was the night Derek’s pack began to follow the caravan; a night marked by fire and loss.

Half the pack following his mother’s brother to seek vengeance against the hunters, those with only peace and desire to live with his mother. The caravan had obtained dogs when they had called home Russia, so the pack may howl to their hearts’ content no matter where they are.

Derek would admit to being curious to what was in Russia whenever he caught glimpses of the colorful blankets inside the caravans. The older men would snort, “Snow.” Whenever he asked, which wasn’t helpful at all.

It was when they were passing through France Derek learned what their end of the deal was.

“Our job is to keep them safe from the lunatics,” Mother said as night fell. “France is home to many of our rage mad brothers and sisters.”

In the three months the _Romani_ took to travel from France to England, Derek earned his scars fighting lunatics. “Alphas, like mother,” Laura whispered to him in the dark once. Like me, went unsaid between them. “How lonely it must be, to live without a pack.”

It’s in England, the distance between the caravan and pack blurs and Derek meets Scott and therefore Stiles.

Scott and his mother are originally from England. It’s Laura who finds out why the _Roma_ took in a _gadge_ and her child. “His mother used to be a whore.” She whispers the dirty secret. “The townspeople condemned them and drove them to the outskirts of town. Miss Melissa would deal with the _Roma_ when they would pass by, until their  _chovihani_ convinced the elders to take in Miss Melissa and her infant son.”

Miss Melissa is smart and kind. She is a midwife and Derek has seen his heavy with child aunt go to her many times. She has even cleaned the claw marks a lunatic left in Derek’s back once. Her son isn’t as gifted as she.

“He was wandering the woods when he should not,” Elder Asha says. Elder Asha is so old, she is blind. The wolf in Derek is amazed no one has challenged her position in the caravan, but the human in Derek is awed that someone so wise lives on. “He bears the bite.”

“We ask you, Alpha Hale, to guide him, so he may not catch the moon’s madness.” Elder Travj says.

“We will show Scott how to control his beast.” His mother agrees.

“In the meantime, we will be thinking of a fitting punishment for wandering the woods on the night of a full moon.” Miss Melissa scowls.

Scott cringes.

Derek is put in charge of Scott.

“You will be Laura’s Beta.” Mother calmly explains when she sees Derek’s shock. “Leadership is a skill to be learned.”

Scott is a chore. His skin gold like many of the _Roma_ and his hair wild and long, it is difficult to believe he is not born of them. He dresses like they do and wears a heavy frown when Derek leads him from the caravan’s settlement. And like them, his spirit yearns to wander, in which Derek means Scott day dreams.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Scott hisses after Derek has cuffed him for not paying attention.

“No.” Derek agrees. Just because the young fool didn’t ask for it does not mean he will not receive it.

What proceeds is the most taxing afternoon Derek has ever had the misfortune of living through. He wishes he could change shape like Laura and run from the insolent cub. He back talks, refuses to listen and Derek is nearly positive he is willfully refusing to understand. No one could be this stupid.

It is when the smells of dinner find Derek they begin to make their way back to the camp. Derek _will_ try and try until the cub learns control. He will not disappoint his pack.

Scott runs into the camp and heads to a caravan close to the fire pit, his eyes flashing gold and Derek follows the little idiot. The cub is oblivious to how the others shy from him, but Derek can smell their fear and knows he needs to find Scott before a frightened man-boy decides to kill the “threat.”

“Stiles!” Scott pounces on a boy.

This Stiles is wearing layers of red shirts, each a different shade, and when Derek gets closer, he can see stitched runes for protection in each, so subtly Derek blinks twice before he is sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. His brown trousers are more of the same, stitched runes for protection and Derek is immediately wary. A _chovihano_ , maybe in training if age is any indicator. He is paler than many of the other _Roma_ , but his eyes are the eyes of a _chovihano_. Golden.

The pack has many dealings with the _Roma_ _Chovihano_ Deaton. He is a kind man with soft words that knows how to speed the body’s healing and how to counteract the damage of wolfs bane. Laura and Mother like him immensely, though Derek is neutral about the man. He knows so much about werewolves, he makes Derek nervous.

“Scott. Can’t breathe.” Stiles chokes out and Derek steps in. He lifts Scott off the _chovihano_ by the scruff of his neck.

“Remember your strength.” Derek reminds the cub for what feels like the tenth time today.

“I know, I know!” Scott whines and Derek lets him go. “That's all you’ve been saying! ‘Remember your strength! Remember you aren’t human anymore!’ I know!”

“So you remembered my delicate human bones can be snapped with minimal effort from our normal interactions, right?” Stiles inputs from the ground.

“Oh.” Scott smiles sheepishly.

It is in this moment, Derek learns the new cub is merely dumb. It is also this moment that begins something between Derek and Stiles.

Before Scott tempted Fate, Scott and Stiles were all but brothers. Derek can smell it on the boys, their scents mixed like his and his sisters’. When Derek asks around, he learns it was Stiles’ mother that petitioned to have Melissa welcomed into the fold. The woman had been a _chovihani_ and had held great power amongst the _Roma_ until her death from a rattling cough that stole her away one winter. The boys still lived with Stiles’ father, in one of the nicer caravans. Melissa finding shelter with Maleva and other wise women as otherwise would be improper.

Stiles often finds him, to ask about werewolf lore and trade his knowledge about the otherkin for petty trinkets. It bemuses his pack, he knows. His mother has stopped in the middle of sentences before when they walk pass her and Laura is often unsettled by his knowledge of otherkin like the _banshee_ or _rusalka_.

It is Laura that finally speaks out.

“Be careful little brother, of the little trinkets you give him.”

“They are nothing.” Derek says, confused at her dire tone.

All he’s given Stiles for his knowledge are feathers, carved beads, strangely shaped rocks, and string he found in a town they visited.

She scoffs. “Nothing is all a _chovihano_ needs to work magic.”

He mentions his concerns to his mother, who shakes her head sadly. “Your sister is merely envious.”

“Why?” He doesn’t understand. Does Laura want Stiles as her mate? Laura is more than ten years older than the young _chovihano_ but their mother is fifteen years older than their father. Stranger things have happened.  “Does she want to hear Stiles’ stories of the otherkin too?”

“No, my love.” Mother smiles fondly. “She is envious you have stolen her _chovihano_ from under nose.” She kisses him on the forehead. “Do not worry my son, her ill humor will leave her.”

It takes him days to decipher his mother’s meaning.

A good pack has an alpha, an alpha-mate and a few betas. A great pack has an alpha, an alpha-mate, betas and a magic user. Deaton had been training Stiles for Laura’s pack all this time and Derek had stolen the boy’s allegiance, his _loyalty_ , without even realizing.

The realization leads him to Stiles’ caravan. His father out with the others, tricking townsmen into playing their rigged games and Scott is protecting his mother from male attention as she gives those who desire it ‘magic’ cures to illnesses. Stiles is sitting upon his and Scott’s bed, his fortune telling cards spread out in the shape of a cross. “I thought you would be by later.” Stiles apologizes and begins to put the cards away.

Derek has long ago come to peace with the fact Stiles always knew where he was. It’s hard to sneak up on someone that can unravel the future from a deck of cards.

Derek stops him as Stiles pick up a card with a wheel.

“You knew.” Derek says.

“Yes,” He grimaces and does not play dumb like he has in the past. “I felt it happening.”

“You didn’t stop it?” He keeps his tone even. He isn’t sure how he feels. Stiles had belonged to Laura. Derek had stolen something that rightfully belonged to his sister, his future Alpha.

Stiles hesitates, his heart thumping loudly in Derek’s ears, before he finally nods. Head ducked down in shame, Stiles admits it out loud. “I knew and didn’t stop it.”

Derek thinks. He was unsure how he wanted Stiles to answer. Is still unsure, but his blood sings and the wolf rumbles. Like the only thing preventing him from a decision is his human half. It’s the first time in years Derek the man and Derek the wolf feel so separated. In the end, it takes nothing more than admitting facts to himself to bring both parts together again. Stiles is his now, even if he was once intended to be tied to Laura, Stiles is Derek’s. _Admits_ it even.

“Do you want to be mine?” The question is important. A last chance to back away, for Derek to ignore the sticky magic binding them together and let things return to how they were meant to be.

Stiles licks his lips and stares at the card in his hand. “The sixth card in the cross spread stands for the immediate future. The Wheel of Fortune is a turning point card, destiny, development. The tenth card in the cross stands for the final outcome. It’s the Two of Cups stand for a bond, partnership,” Stiles licks his lips. “Love. This card, the second card, is the immediate challenge. This card, Judgment, can mean judgment or a decision.” Derek listens, hanging on every word Stiles is saying even if it is rambling to Derek’s ears. “What they say, what they all say is I have a choice and depending on my choice, I can be with you. Be yours if I say yes.” Derek hears Stiles’ heart even louder, hears him swallow hard. “Yes, I want to be yours. Only yours.”

The kiss he bestows on the _chovihano_ is soft and dry. His mouth still tingles and Derek sighs, feeling warmth rush through body as the air seems to settle around him. “Wow.” Stiles whispers, his iris sparking with moving gold flecks. Derek knows his eyes are red rather than blue. He knows it the same way he knows pack is him and the _chovihano_ standing in front of him. It takes one breath for them to rush together again.

The kiss is harder, greedier, magic pulsing between them, grabbing at Derek and pulling him closer to Stiles, until he has no choice but to drape himself over him on the bed, disrupting the left over fortune telling cards. Stiles’ hands are much like the boy himself. One hand is buried in Derek’s hair, pulling closer and closer until Derek is sure they will devour each other like the ouroboros, always beginning and never ending and the other flitting across his back in sharp brush stroke movements that burn hot.

It causes his fangs to drop, sharpen and the kiss turns bloody on accident and its better, exactly what needed to happen. It’s an exchange of blood, of power and protection. A werewolf thing. Something Mother always said would happen naturally. The thrum of _mine_ makes him shudder.

It’s when Stiles’ is half aware, drunk off sex and magic Derek learns a magic thing happened too. There are marks on his body, lines, knots and symbols he’s seen Stiles study as he watched him train Scott. He touches the marks with the tip of a finger and they brighten. “My protection, my power,” Stiles explains, for once keeping his words at a minimum.

“Magic comes in three’s,” Derek says, knowing there is more to what Stiles is saying. “What’s the last part?” He asks became he needs to hear it. Wants to hear it.

“My werewolf.” Stiles says, eyes amber with magic, incredibly different from the beta amber of werewolves. More gold, clear. Sparking.

By the camp’s fires, Stiles casts another spread, his eyes never losing their living amber and Derek watches him with the faint glow of sigils on his skin.

“What have you done?” Laura demands. “What did he do?”

“Laura—“ Mother begins.

“What did he do?” Laura screams. Her eyes reddening, her form changing from human to in-between and Derek -- Derek blinks his red eyes at her.

“He chose me.” He’s as awed as he sounds. “He _chose_ _me_.”

 

 


End file.
